


1974

by mangohaz



Series: The 70's [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, Rush (2013)
Genre: Angst, Homophobic langugage in German, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Unrequited Love, if you trust google translate, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:18:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6919768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangohaz/pseuds/mangohaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all good things can last forever</p>
            </blockquote>





	1974

Large and expensive leather bags with a family insignia sat in front of the door, the wallpaper in the hallway was peeling and only now did Niki notice. These weren’t the bags that James used to take luggage to races, these were the bags that James arrived with on that dreary night in late October, hair soaked with the smell of London rain. These were the bags he was leaving with.

The man himself had been avoiding the younger for the best half of a week while clothing and other miscellaneous objects slowly began to disappear from the flat, his bedroom, their bedroom.

There was no lingering noise of James’ voice filling the narrow hallways of the flat or even the drying smell of sex that seemed to stick to the walls with no respect for any other occupants of the flat.

Niki, back to the wall covered in a nasty moss green floral wallpaper that he’d never been able to scrape off, continued to stare down the bags that reminded him of James’ old money roots.

A hand flung against his head “Mien Gott.” scolding himself he moved away, pushing off the wall and storming into the living room with such a pressure on the creaking wood he was sure Mrs. Parker wasn’t going to lend him the only vacuum in the building next time he asked.

As if by magic, keys turned the lock in one sloppy gesture and the man who had tried so hard to avoid him flung himself through the door.

“Oh.” An awkward scratch to some phantom itch on the back of his neck and a slight, preoccupied smile not quite reaching his nor Niki’s eyes.

Niki, always straight and distinct asked quickly, “So, when will you be off? I suppose Suzy has some big fancy house in the West End?” he only asked to cover for the horrid empty silence that fell between the pair after James had arrived.

James began, “NikNak...” But didn’t finish. What ever sentence he was looking for got stuck before it was able to reach him as it travelled through the air and so the silence remained between them. The air felt thick with it, it was never quiet between the pair. They always had something to say, some angry quip or some stupid sweet nothing. Today was just nothing.

So be it, Niki thought as he finished his mission to the livingroom as first planned, So be fucking it if he wants to leave me behind. Niki’d seen the photos of himself and Suzy, they were a perfect blonde match who would have a genetically georgous, perfect nuclear family. That's what James had told him anyways. Jesus, they’d probably give them names like Amy and Freddie. Stupid fucking stupid names.  
A coffee table was turned, upheaved violently as Nikis foot collided with the weak leg of it. The clatter of a glass photo frame hits the floor and James comes barrelling into the room from his hide of the doorway.

“Oh NikNak! What have you done, are you hurt?!” Angry sighs from both parties as Niki yanks his perfectly fine arm out of the mothering reach.

Another sigh to follow as Niki admits defeat to James, “I’m fine, Jesus! I’m fine. Everything is just fine. Aren’t you leaving?”James looked toward the door then at Niki with pain enshrined in his face and not the type of pain that was easy to rid of. What had settled in Niki’s chest was the type that lingered like James cigar smoke or Heskeths dope that smuggled throughout the flat, falling and nestling into every tiny crevice it could.

“Andr-” The look Niki shot James has he began spelling out his entire name made the words fall flat in the air and once again silence rang like a bell.

“Nik,” He tried again, “We both knew, we both knew the consequences and the outcome.” Niki trained his eyes on the rapidly slimming frame of his room mate as the other looked at him. 

This wasn’t what he wanted, not at all, tears began to collect in the bottom of his lids. A sharp turn to stare out the window and to the cobbled house across the street where Mabel and her lifelong ‘bestfriend’ Vanessa lived proudly in their little London cottage. It’d been standing there, proudly, since 1799. As London had changed and evolved in itself that house was a standing remainder of it's history. Mabel had become a close friend of Nikis just a month after he’d moved in and 2 before James had joined him. She had invited him after seeing a explosive argument between himself and Ernst Lauda on the pathway up toward the front door. Mabel had come rushing out when she’d heard Ernst scream at his son that “Nicht mein sohn ist eine Schwuchtel!” (No son of mine is a fag!) thank God that it had been in German, Niki had thought at the time. Thankful no one in this new neighbourhood could understand the slur the supposedly loving father had just flung in his son's face. That was until German native Mabel and trilingual Cuban native, Vanessa had come running out of their front door after hearing the commotion.

“You!” Mabel pointed an angry finger at his father, “Get OFF my street!” She screamed, nearing them as the traffic stopped for the nicest women in town. Ernst didn’t budge and Niki was left wildly looking from the 70 year old women with flames in her eyes and his 6’5 father with a varied degree of anger surrounding him as a constant aura, “GO! Before I call the cops!” The German twinge in her voice caused his father to grunt before striding down the path and into the large Bently that awaited him.

“Oh you poor love, come with me.” She had reached him as he shook in his spot. His father long gone with him standing in the freezing cold refusing to move. Her hand tugged on his upper arm, pulling him back across the street where to where Vanessa was waiting in their front garden, arms wrapped around to herself to ward off the bite of the unusually sharp August air.

As he fought back the tears that were rapidly escaping the confines of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks with rebellion, he could see Mabel watching him from across the street as he watched her. They smiled warily to one another, her because of her weakening eyesight and Niki because he needed something to smile about.

While he stood, hugging himself with feeble arms, James’ presence still hung in the air like a fog. Quiet footfalls progressed behind him until he could feel the hot press of James’ chest against his back, strong muscled arms replacing his own as a large, floppy mess of hair landed on his shoulder.

There was some stuttering in his speech before the very simple and standard words “Ich liebe dich.” came flowing messily out of his mouth in an inconsiderate splurge of overlapping syllables and harsh constinents.

Just as Niki had began to relax into the familiar hold he ripped his body from the grasp, “Don’t you dare say that to me, don’t you dare say that to me when you are leaving me. You are leaving me in this cold, ugly, one bed-one bath by myself to rot because you found something you deemed easier. James, you are a fucking feigling. Now leave me the fuck alone, go.” He still hadn’t turned for fear that the face of sadness he knew so well would cause him to swallow his words back down again and apologise profusely before letting James keep his key and ask himself and Suzy ‘round for dinner next weekend. God he was weak, so weak. The tears were still streaming down his face like a tide of rapids.

“NikNa-” The voice was cracked, pleading.

“GO!” He didn’t mean to sound to brutally angry as he spun on his heel to point toward the door, staring the elder down as he did so, challenging him to say no.

He didn’t, he left quick and easy. 

Niki didn’t see James again until the beginning of the 1975 season. The fire in the Austrians eyes remained while all that lay in the pools of James’ iris’ was regret of past mistakes made. 

Nikis determination that year will always be speculated on but the truth will never be known to another but himself.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic i hope u enjoyed it :))


End file.
